


cross my arms and hope to die

by ever_neutral



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-21
Updated: 2011-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-19 15:59:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ever_neutral/pseuds/ever_neutral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stefan's not dead -- no, it's much worse than that; they might as well be in mourning. Elena wears her guilt like a funereal garb. </p><p>[Post-S2]</p>
            </blockquote>





	cross my arms and hope to die

In the days following his near-death, Damon decides he hates his brother most for throwing him out of the sun's way. For never. just. letting him  _die_. 

Now it's time to return the favour.

_Of course, brother. I will follow you into the dark._

Naturally, Elena refuses to be left behind. It's happened too many times before. He gets it. He understands. 

 _His love lifts you up where you belong._  

If he thought it'd help, he'd be singsonging parodies of epic romance and shooting comets in the night sky. 

_He's the reason you live._

But now's not the time for that. This song's a little too close to home.

  
+

  
"We'll get him back," he keeps telling her, like a broken record. "We're  _getting_  him back." 

He doesn't know if he's hitting the right notes; Elena's not giving him much back. Then again, she was never one to play by his script. He'd like to hold that against her. He'd like to be able to do many things. 

"You almost ran over that cyclist back there," she informs him. The reprimand's half-hearted, to Damon's ear.

 _Because the other half of her heart is ripping out some innocent townsfolk's,_  he muses. As we knew, he's morbid when he's stressed.

"Can't be worrying about collateral damage, Elena," he can't help cracking. 

Elena's mouth thins in familiar exasperation, the sort that comes from holding back a retort. 

Or holding back a laugh?

But they don't do that anymore. Stefan's not dead -- no, it's much worse than that; they might as well be in mourning. Elena wears her guilt like a funereal garb. 

Damon would like nothing better than to tear it off her; he has enough for them both. 

  
+

  
Guilt turns to fury as time passes. 

"Do you even know what you're doing?" she just about shrieks at him one day. 

 _No, of course he doesn't. He's not the right brother. That guy left ridiculous shoes to fill._  

Part of Damon flares up, ready for a fight. Another part wants to grin, smug as the cat who got the canary: The  _good_  brother never got her fire and fury. 

No. Stefan just had everything else any lesser guy could ever want. And threw it away for reasons just as bad, too. 

"If I were you, I wouldn't piss off the guy who  _didn't_  abandon you," Damon says, voice low.

She opens her mouth, then closes it. Turns away, like the very sight of him sickens her. 

They drive in silence for the next four hours.

His mind flashes back to happier road-trips, back to  _I saved your life_  and  _you're not the worst company in the world._

Every road leads back to the same place. Once again, Damon's bringing Elena Gilbert to her Stefan. 

 _I hope you're happy, brother: you got free of me after all._  

  
+

  
When they stop at a motel, Elena still doesn't speak to him. Just locks herself in the bathroom. 

Damon nurses a bottle of gin he pried off some homeless person on the way in. He would have liked to drink the old guy instead, but he figures Elena's had enough disappointments for a lifetime. Let it never be said that Damon Salvatore doesn't think of other people. 

She comes out after a good half-hour, tear-tracks on her cheeks. 

"Had a good sob?" he sneers, because he's mean when he's drunk.

She takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"We need to be together on this," she goes on. "If we're ever gonna find Stefan -- " She stops, swallows. "Damon, I need you with me. I need you to be strong."

Damon stares at the wallpaper. 

He doesn't want to be strong. He wants to slink off into a dark corner and drink until all light disappears. 

"Okay," he hears himself say. "I promise." 

She comes over to him, wraps her arms around his torso. Holds on for a count of  _just long enough to be sincere, but not long enough to cross any lines_. Smiles carefully up at him afterwards. 

"Thank you," she whispers.

He nods, and doesn't look at her. "You're welcome."


End file.
